Betrayal
by cookybabe
Summary: Bella tries her hand at something intimate, but finds herself not able to accomplish the goal. Her next move? Calling the one person who can, Edward. AU. All human. Rated M for adult themes, language, and, well, smut. Enjoy!
1. Chapter 1

**_Disclaimer: I don't own them!_**

**_Author's Note: I wrote this story on a whim. Purely smut! I took Bella and Edward, placed them in a situation where some people find themselves. She can't get enough of him, but yet, she doesn't want to believe she needs him. It's happened to me, at least. Enjoy it!_**

Why is it like this? My body feigns ignorance when I touch, caress. My skin calls to another's hand. Try as I might, I can not please myself.

One would never think your body could betray you. My flesh craves his touch, caresses, kisses, breath. I feel the pull toward him. I place my hand on my breast, move my fingers toward my nipple, pinching. Nothing.

I sigh slightly. I begin to remember him again. How his voice sounded in my ear while he was rubbing me. How his breath felt on my neck as he nibbled his way to my collar bone. How his fingers felt like feathers on my skin. How the fire ignited when he flicked his tongue on my clit.

And yet, my body will not respond. To me, at least.

I am tempted to watch a movie. Just to relax, put him in the back of my mind. However, he has somehow engraved himself on me, in me.

I need release—by myself.

Turning the lights low, I play sensual music, hoping my body will respond. I stand in the middle of the room, slowly undressing. Caressing my skin as he did, I peel off my clothes, one by one. Finally, I stand in the room, naked, and feeling as though this will not work.

Closing my eyes, I picture him in my mind. His unruly bronze hair, his topaz eyes with a hint of gold around the pupils, his mouth. Oh, what his mouth could do. I imagine his hands roaming my body—my hands begin what he started. Slowly, almost painstakingly, I lightly caress my upper body, paying special attention to my breasts.

Almost like him. Not quite. My body is tempted to respond.

I quiver.

I lay in bed, just touching my body, trying to find some response. The mound between my legs lays in waiting. The soft flesh, silky and smooth, feels good to my hand. Spreading my legs, I place a finger near my entrance and tease. I gasp. I trace my fingers over my whole sex, stopping to play with my clit. I gasp again.

This will work.

I look down and notice my nipples are slightly hard. My other hand takes a nipple between fingers and pinches. The feeling is coming back.

My clit is responding. I feel it harden beneath my finger. A slight wetness forms at my entrance. Could it really be?

I press harder, trying to feel him again. He is in my mind, behind my closed eyes. My neck arches back into the pillows and my eyes open. I can feel my orgasm building. Then realization hits my body. He is not there.

The orgasm is lost.

And my body stops responding to my touch.

Aggravated, I rise from the bed and throw on my robe. This has gone on long enough. How many times has he touched me? Could I really count the number?

For so long, it has only been him. He, who makes me wet by just looking at me. He needs not do anything, for my body responds when I see him, yards away.

I wonder if he might call tonight. Maybe while on the phone, I can bring myself to heights only he has the power to do. I've never done that on the phone. Release is something my body only knows by his hands, his body.

I wonder if he feels the same.

Loneliness settles in. I walk out of the room and grab a wine glass and bottle of wine. Opening the bottle, I sniff the wonderful oak scent. And once again, I am reminded of him.

I sip the deep red wine, smoke a cigarette. My body lies in waiting, almost praying to be brought to heights. I discourage the notion of trying once again. How many nights will I end up drinking a bottle of wine and falling into a stupor because of him?

I feel a breath on my neck. Snapping my head around, I see no one. Just the tickle of the wind and it takes my breath away. I need him. Oh, how my body needs him.

I reach for the phone and light another cigarette. This is going to be hard. I've never had to call him for this. He should just be here, doing what he does best.

One ring. Two. Three.

Ah, his voice, "Bella?"

He sounds as though he was expecting my call. A short conversation, straight to the point.

"I need you."

He is silent for a moment. It almost scares me. I feel as though I have made the wrong decision in calling him. Something inside me stirs. I feel awakened by hearing his soft breathing on the other end.

"And why do you need me?"

The audacity of this man. Can he not know that it is him I yearn for; him I desire the most?

I am silent for a few moments, contemplating my answer. I cannot think of anything seductive to say; a loss of words is something that happens to me. The truth, perhaps?

"I feel betrayed."

More silence, almost as if he's waiting for me to say more.

He asks, "By me?"

I smirk into the phone, though he cannot know this. I sigh as well.

"No, by me, my body."

I am silent again, waiting for his rebuttal. Nothing, and more silence. This is almost a game we've never played before. Does he want me to beg for him? Does he need to hear me say that I want him to fuck me and bring me to those heights that my body has decided he has the only claim to?

"And how has your, um, your body done this to you?"

He almost sounds disbelieving. It's incredible. I believe I shall render him speechless.

I begin to breathe into the phone, softly.

"I just opened my robe, and I'm naked underneath."

Why do I say the things I do? Did that even make sense to him? Should I say more? A thought has come across my mind, one that earlier was prominent.

I trace my torso with my fingers while I listen to the silence on other end. My heart is pounding, waiting for his response. He sighs. I listen intently.

"You didn't answer my question."

Of course, I didn't. Why would I answer that question when it is so obvious as to why my body is doing this? I close my eyes, feigning to not have heard his question.

"It's your entire fault, Edward."

And I give a small laugh, almost a giggle. In all our time together, we have never been completely honest. The wine is intoxicating me, as he is doing right now.

"My fault?"

Again, he sounds so oblivious to everything. I begin to ponder this whole conversation. Is it worth running around the bush, when I can just beat it?

"Oh, fine." I make sure I sound exasperated. "Don't you know what you do to me? I used to be able to bring myself to heights, and you ruined it for me! Nothing works anymore—not even those fantasies where you're involved. I can't take this torment! I need you here—now—doing what you do best. Do you understand?"

I smile to myself. Do you think he may have the picture now? He has been making this difficult from the very first word he spoke to me tonight.

I can hear the smile in his voice. I think that may have been what he needed to hear.

"Is that so? Do you really need me that badly? I could make you beg for it. You know I could do things to you—so easily."

My breath hitches. Oh! Just what I needed to hear. He's offering.

"Why are you naked?"

My hand begins to roam my body, thinking of what he has just said. My body decides to wait for his touch—for mine is never good enough.

"I was trying to seduce myself, with you in my mind. And, as you can tell, it obviously hasn't worked. It isn't working now."

The truth, when you never want it to get out, has just been spoken. Should I feel ashamed? I hope not.

"You intoxicate me, like this wine is doing right now. I'm not going to beg, not until you're here, touching me."

Is this going to be a one-sided conversation? We have been sitting on the phone for the past three minutes—neither of us speaking, just breathing, slightly.

Finally, a word—he speaks!

"How long can your body survive without my touch?"

I hear a door open and being locked, keys jingling. Another door opens and I hear an engine start. Could he be coming over? Is he trying to prolong the conversation? Or does he have somewhere else to be? A radio plays in the background. I'm tempted to call this whole thing off—say forget it, I can live without your touch or something along those lines.

Yet, I'm still on the phone, on my third glass of wine, with another cigarette lit. And I anticipate his next words.

"You haven't answered me yet."

Right, forgot about that. I open my eyes. I shall blame my lack of response on the wine.

"I don't think my body can last an hour without your touch. It's bad enough that I am here, telling you all this. All because I can't stand this—this not being able to touch myself and no feeling from it. I'm starting to hate you for this."

He laughs. I can almost envision him smirking to himself—knowing that he has created this monster that eats at me because I cannot be without him.

A few more minutes of silence, in which I hear a turn signal and a horn beeping at someone or something.

"Are you still naked? How much wine have you had?"

I look at the bottle. It's almost gone. I feel as though this is my first glass and I'm sitting down watching a comedy. It's almost funny how he keeps asking inane questions.

"Of course I'm naked! Why would I cover myself up? I was hoping I could do something while I was phone with you, but apparently you're making me think too much."

I'm beginning to become frustrated at this man. He's the problem, not me. I quit paying attention to the background noises and stare at my wall. Maybe I've even quit paying attention to him.

"Hello? Are you still there? I said to open your door for me. Hello?"


	2. Chapter 2

"Hello? Are you still there? I said to open your door for me. Hello?"

He's here? That was rather quick. Or did it take him a while? I don't remember how long it was before I said another thing to him. Instead, I hang up the phone and walk to the door. I tie my robe and quietly unlock the door.

The knob turns from the outside and slowly opens. He steps into the doorway.

"I thought you might have passed out from the wine. Glad you didn't."

I am helpless in this situation. I stand there, staring at him. My eyes bear into his—showing him need, want, and lust. And then he smiles. My breath comes out shaky, and I feel my body tense.

This is it. This is what my body has been waiting for. Moisture forms between my legs and I know that, even before he will touch me, he can slam into me with his cock and all I will feel is absolute bliss.

I want to tell him that, but I am rendered speechless at the moment.

We stand, staring, almost to see who will make the first move.

"Would you like some wine?"

I know that I will have to open another bottle, for there is a small amount left in the first. It's ok, though, I'm well-stocked on wine.

He nods his head and the cocks it to the side, closing his eyes slightly. He inhales deeply.

"I can smell you; everything about you. Are you wet for me already?"

I'm a fool. I should have gotten dressed before I answered the door. But since I'm just in a robe, maybe he'll take me in the kitchen, over the table? Or by the front door, against the wall? It doesn't matter, as long as he's inside me, driving me insane.

I shake my head to his question. He already knows the answer. He shouldn't have asked. All he has to do is look at me, and I'm in the game. I'm either the predator or the prey. Tonight, he shall be the prey.

I advance on him slowly, watching his face. He stares intently at my mouth, waiting for me to do something. Instead, I place my face centimeters from his, lips almost touching. I refuse to kiss him yet. I close my eyes and inhale his scent. Everything comes rushing back.

And then I pull away. He looks at me, disappointed. Perhaps he thought I wanted him right now? I do, I admit it. But I need to control myself.

Why can't I control myself? I find myself throwing my arms around his neck, bringing my lips to his, in an ever so chaste kiss. I smile into his lips.

And that's when it happens. Our kisses are tender at first, nice and sensual. Within minutes, maybe seconds, they have become fierce, a battle of tongues, moans, and roaming hands. I need him now.

And he's the one that pulls away. With my robe tie.

And slowly, he caresses the skin that has become exposed by the opening of my robe. Shivering, I reach out to cup his face, but I am denied. The table has turned. I am the prey.

Somehow he has managed to pin my arms behind my back while he kisses my lips, my face, my neck. He directs me to the wall, face forward and brings my arms above my head.

"Don't move."

And I won't.

He lifts my robe, over my body, over my head, over my arms. I feel a gush of cool air hit my flushed skin and I moan. I don't whether to push further into the wall, or back against his body.

He does nothing for a full minute, though I can feel his eyes on my body, roaming, looking to find the sensitive spot from the back. My breathing is coming in short rasps, and I am tempted to turn around.

Fingers gently play on my shoulders. I start to feel content, anxious. Ever so slightly do those fingers advance to my back, tracing my sides, swirling circles over my lower back. He is taking his time with me—causing me to fail with words that I yearn to speak in a few moments.

The fingers have now traveled lower, past my butt, to my thighs, my calves, my ankles. His feather touches are driving me insane, and making me wetter than I have ever been. Suddenly, he licks my lower back and lightly blows on it. I gasp and suck in a breath, releasing it very slowly.

He smacks my ass, lightly. I gasp. Another smack; this one harder than the first. And I moan. He places his hand where he slapped me, and his fingers move around, almost taking away the pain, but bringing more arousal. With his leg, he forces my legs open a bit and another hand is slipped between my legs. He teases my folds, and finds my clit for a short second, twitching with his finger. I moan loudly.

And he laughs.

"I could do this to you all night. I know you could have an orgasm right now, without my cock inside you. Is that what you want?"

NO! I don't want that. I want him fucking me, now, against this wall, on the floor, over the table, on the counter, where I can come with him in me. I want to feel his cock buried in me, stroking me to oblivion. Is that so hard to ask?

He pulls away, probably because I have not answered his question. I am left alone, against the wall, extremely aroused and ready to rip his pants off. However, he has done what he always does—makes me yearn so badly for him to be inside of me.

I know it will be a while before that will actually happen. His cock won't be inside of me for a long time; the teasing will take far too long. That's what he does—he teases to make me understand that I will never have the upper hand during our rituals.

Finally, I decide to turn away from the wall. My eyes flutter to the floor, where I find my robe in a pile at his feet. Slowly, I raise my gaze to look his body over. And I'm happy. His pants are tight where his cock is trying to free itself for me. I look at his face; his is smiling widely, acknowledging my flushed skin due to his touches. His eyes shine with lust as he looks over my naked front.

In one swift move, to torture his eyes of course, I have my robe off the floor, barely covering me. I want to put my robe on for some reason. I almost feel embarrassed that I am leaking my arousal down my legs while he is fully clothed. Damn him! He never plays fair!

"How about that glass of wine?"

I nod, unbundle my robe, and make to move to the kitchen.

"Without the robe. You always said you wanted to do something for me in the kitchen naked. Now's your chance."

And the smirk on his face—I wanted to slap it off. He didn't make me mad. Oh, no, he couldn't do that. That was nothing. It's just that…Fuck. Fuck me. NOW.

Instead, I drop my robe at his feet, where it apparently belongs. I smirk.

"Anything else, master?"

His eyes cannot betray him. He looks amused at the "master" comment.

He can say anything to me and he knows I will do his bidding. I wish he would tell me to get on all fours, pad into the kitchen slowly, so I can enjoy the view of your ass which I hope to fuck later after giving you a nice solid spanking.

"I want you, naked, with a glass of wine. In your room. In five minutes. And don't be late. Do you understand?"

Oh, we're playing a game!

"Yes, Master."

And away he walks, past the kitchen, up the stairs, and into my room. I hear my door close and then all is silent. And I have a time limit. Seriously, how long can it take me to uncork a bottle of wine and pour?

How long will a take a person who has drank a whole bottle of wine to uncork a new bottle of wine and pour a glass? And carry it up the stairs without spilling? At least I don't have to worry about tripping on my robe. It's a good thing.


	3. Chapter 3

**_Disclaimer: not mine!_**

**_Author's note: Yes, I'm a tease! This chapter will prove that! Enjoy!_**

I stumble around the kitchen for a few seconds, trying to remember how I lost the upper hand. Ah, yes. He looked at me.

I wonder how much time has gone by already. It hasn't been that long and still no noise from my room. As I grab another bottle of wine, I wonder if he likes red or white...

Fuck it. I don't care what he likes.

I grab the cheapest bottle I have and quickly uncork it, splashing a little on my breasts. The coolness of the wine hitting me has caused a slight moan to erupt from my throat.

I debate wiping the little drops off of me, but decide against it. He's probably going to lick them off. At that thought, my body shivers and my arousal peaks even more.

I take two glasses out of the cabinet, balancing them and the bottle in my hands as I make my way up the stairs.

Just as I take the final step onto the landing, my door opens slowly. I almost drop the wine when I notice him moving out of room, just in his boxers.

"What took you so long?"

I shake my head, trying to find words. His body tempts me and all I can do is stare, wondering when I will feel him against me.

He shakes his head at me, "Do you have the wine?"

I offer the glasses and the bottle to him, making sure not to shake. He smirks at me while his hands slowly reach out to take the items from me.

"Get on the bed."

I look at him for a second, wondering why he wanted the wine in the first place. And then I see it. The handcuffs attached to my headboard. The blindfold laying on the pillow. The feather sitting on the foot of the bed. And yes, massage oils too.

Slowly, I walk over to the bed, the feel of his eyes on me the entire time. I let a smirk cross my face as I lay on the bed. And it's gone quickly when he produces a candle and lights it.

He stalks over the bed, grabbing my hands gently, and placing tender kisses upon them. He clicks me into the handcuffs, making sure my hands cannot slip out.

I moan softly as he moves over me, his chest flush to my stomach, to grab the blindfold. Chuckling, he runs his one hand over my thigh, coming so very close to my center. And I can't help but moan again, louder.

"Are you going to beg tonight?"

I look him straight in the eyes, wondering if I should stoop to that level. He already has me handcuffed and could leave me like this until I do.

"No?"

I shake my head, forcing myself to find words.

"Well, beg for me blindfolded. I'll be here somewhere."

My mouth forms the shape of an "o", and I whimper. Suddenly, my sight is gone, and my other senses are heightened.

I hear him breathing on the side of the bed, smell him close to me. My body tingles as I think of what he could do to me in this position.

"Please," I beg softly, wanting his touch.

A little chuckle comes from the foot of the bed.

"Please," I say, a bit louder than last time.

A hand caresses my foot, moving slowly toward my ankle. Another hand starts at my thigh, making small circles on the inside. I moan, causing the movements to stop.

"Beg, not moan."

And he pushes my legs apart, smacking my pussy lightly. I hiss, hoping that slap won't be the last one.

I feel weight being added to the bed on my left side. I wish I was free from the confines of the handcuffs to just touch him, anywhere.

"Not yet, my pet. You need a bit more training before I release you."

"Play along" is the mantra in my head. I want to see him, see the fire burning in his eyes for me.

A finger taps my nipple, sending electricity through me. I want to moan, but know that I can't. I turn my body towards him, wanting more of his touch. I can feel myself becoming more wet, waiting for his touch.

He pushes me back down on the bed, forcefully. Laughing, he traces a finger along my neck, "Beg."

"Touch me."

His hand caresses my face, neck, and collarbone. Slowly he moves toward my chest, scratching lightly with his nails. I hold in a hiss that I desperately want to escape.

The caressing stops and I know that I must say more. Finally, "Touch me, all over."

Another chuckle and his hands are all over me. They start at my neck, moving along my chest, fingers pinching my nipples, down to my stomach where they run little circles around my belly button. Slowly, they move down to my legs, never missing an inch of skin. I bite my tongue to keep from moaning out.

His hands have moved their way to the inside of my thighs, ever so slowly moving toward my heated center. It throbs in anticipation of his fingers playing with me.

And instead, another smack right on my pussy. And this time, I moan.

"Don't moan again, or I'll leave you like this."

I nod my head, fully understanding him. Though I doubt he would leave me, I wouldn't put it past him.

Another smack, another tongue biting. How I want him right now!

The touches cease. And I'm forced to speak again.

The weight leaves the side of the bed. I hear him pouring a glass of wine and suddenly find myself thirsty.

I'm confused as well. In all our times together, I've never told him what to do. He just _knew._ Now I'm at a loss as to what to say to him. He knows and I know what I want. Just give it to me already.

I hear him standing next to me, drinking the wine. And then the wax drops on my stomach, hot then cool. And I hiss as the light pain subsides.

It feels so good as he does it again. Once on each nipple. A drop right by my collarbone. Another one on my stomach. Finally, one on small drop on my mound, causing me to clench my inner muscles.

And now I find the courage to speak. He's just torturing me. As much as I'm enjoying this, I would much rather have him inside me, bringing me over that peak.

"Touch my pussy."

His breath is hot in my ear, "Now you're figuring it out."

A finger traces my folds, gently teasing me. He does this for a few minutes, then slips in between those lips, tapping my clit. My back arches, the air catches in my lungs. He teases my entrance, barely going inside. My muscles clench again, hoping to bring him further in.

The minstrations stop, all pleasure is lost. I can still imagine his finger down there, playing with me, almost bringing me to orgasm.

Damn him! Why must we play this game?

I wait for a few moments, listening to the sounds of the room. All I can hear is him breathing softly. I can't tell where he is or what he's about to do. And I find myself liking it more and more.

He unclasps the handcuffs, bringing me to a sitting position. He nips my earlobe, bites my neck, and pinches my nipple.

I reach out to touch him, but am swiftly denied by a sweep of his hands.

"No, play by the rules. Don't touch."

Nodding my head, I resist the urge to sigh. I don't care where I touch him, as long as I can feel his skin under my fingers.

The blindfold still covers my eyes. I yearn to see him, look in his eyes to see the passion. My lips want his on mine, my body aches for his to be on top.

Carefully, he traces one finger over every inch on my body, bypassing the most sensitve of spots. I feel my muscles clench inside, needing him in me.

His hands go to the back of my head, carefully untying the blindfold. I close my eyes as it slips away.

"Now you don't want to look?"

I giggle silently, desperately wanting to look at him.

And suddenly he's on top of me, kissing me, touching me, and rocking his hips upon mine. I moan into his mouth as his pace increases.

Our kisses become slower, the passion only building greater. I open my eyes, looking up at his face. A smile creeps upon his lips as he kisses my forehead.

He grinds his hips again, forcing me to feel his arousal.

One more passionate kiss, our tongues entwining, and he pulls away. I look up to him, seeing his eyes full of passion and lust.

I reach out to touch him. Thankfully, he doesn't move away. Smiling, I trace his chest, stomach, and thighs. He hisses quietly when I come so very close to touching his hardened member. I'm about to grasp him when I remember the torture he just put me through.

He groans when he realizes I'm not going to be that girl tonight. Oh no, not at all. I'll be the one who teases you until you need me.

I lay on the bed, my backside exposed to him. I wiggle my feet in the air while I play with the feather that he forgot about.

Again, he's on top of me, kissing my back, shoulders, spine. His hands are massaging my butt, running along my sides. I feel him between my legs, pulsing, waiting to be inside of me. Moaning into my arms, I know I won't be able to last much longer if he isn't inside of me.

I find courage, words, "Can't we just..." They stop in my thoat.

A hot breath in my ear speaks, "Just what?"

I sigh, needing him more than ever, "Can't you just fuck me already?"

He laughs, "With pleasure, my pet."

And as he rolls us over, I see the fire in his eyes--the burning passion that shows he needs me as much as I need him.


	4. Chapter 4

**_Disclaimer: Not mine!_**

**_Author's Note: Since I'm such a tease, I thought I would put you all out of your misery. It's finally here! YAY for lemons! Enjoy! And as always, thank you for your reviews! You're such wonderful people!_**

Chapter 4

As he balances his weight on his arms, his eyes are fierce with need. His skin is warm as he lowers his stomach and chest to mine.

I take my legs, wrapping them around his thighs, encouraging him to enter me. His hips still for a few moments, his breath coming in short gasps.

"You've never needed me like this before..."

I look him in the eyes, wanting to convey every emotion that I have for him. I fear it doesn't work out as planned.

He sighs, slowly moving off me, grazing my entire body with his. Tracing one finger along my collarbone, he opens his mouth to speaks, but closes it.

Instead he takes my nipple in his mouth, caressing it with his tongue, teasing it with his teeth. My back arches into his touch, craving more of him.

He chuckles, taking his mouth away from me. His eyes follow my skin, to my toes and back up to meet my eyes.

I have never known anyone who could make me so hot and wet by just staring at me.

And I make move, pouncing on top of him, pushing him onto the bed. I straddle his hips, my clit placed directly on top of his hard cock. His boxers are the only thing stopping me from impaling myself on him.

His hands seek my hips, gripping me, telling me to move slowly, to create that wonderful friction that will bring me almost to the edge.

The only thing I find myself wanting at the moment is to just devour this man. How can someone so amazing want me in this way?

I stop rocking my hips, needing to show him how much I appreciate him, how much feeling I have for him.

Leaning down, I bring my mouth to his ear, "It's your turn now."

I nip his ear lobe, eliciting a nice low hiss from his lips. Smiling to myself, I continue on to his neck, biting and kissing all the way around to the other side. I feel his hips beneath me, moving slowly, pushing into me.

I let out a soft moan when he collides with my clit, causing my hips to shift a little lower. I can feel every movement that he makes, feel him throbbing. And I have to stop myself from ripping his boxers off.

With my internal debate happening, I attack his lips, kissing him with abandon, my tongue seeking his for a little battle. He moans into my mouth, his hips hitching higher into mine.

I pull myself away from his lips, moving my body lower to pay attention to the rest of his glorious body. I place kisses on his chest, little nips on his nipples, and tiny licks on his stomach.

His hands roam my body, pulling me closer, scratching me lightly. Straddling one of his legs, I lick my lips as I move my hands to the top of his boxers. I slowly lower my head to the outline of his cock, blowing some hot air onto it. My fingers are still playing with his waistband as his breath hitches in his throat.

I look up to him then, just to make sure he's being tortured. His eyes are open, as his mouth. I taunt him a bit longer, breathing more hot air onto him, tracing my fingers around him, but not nearly touching him.

Lifting his hips up, I slowly pull off his boxers with my teeth, making sure to graze him with my lips. His cock jerks toward me, almost begging me to take it in my mouth.

I do. Slowly, I move down his shaft, my tongue moving with my lips. And as I move back up, I bring my hand to his balls, caressing them softly. He moans again, his hips jerking.

Smiling, I look at him, his cock in my hand as my tongue darts out licking his entire length. His eyes bulge as his breathing is shortened by my torture. I see his hands gripping my sheets, his knuckles almost white.

This is when I know I have won. He won't be able to take the torture much longer.

Taking him back into my mouth, I place one hand on him, slowly stroking him. Up and down his length. I trace little circles with my other hand on his inner thigh.

And just when I thought it couldn't get any better, he has pushed me off of him, throwing me back onto the bed. He kneels in front of me, his cock hard and slick with my saliva. Smiling, he bends down, placing a light lick on my clit. My hips jerk, my body spasms, and I moan.

He chuckles into me, his tongue still playing with my folds as his finger teases my entrance. My back arches into his mouth, and my fingers find themselves pinching my nipples.

I want to look into his eyes, to see what they have written in them, but the pleasure is so immense that I don't want to force them open to engage another sense on my body. I feel the pressure building, my hips rock faster, and my fingers pinching harder.

And just as I'm about to be brought over the edge, all sensation is lost--he has removed his mouth and fingers from me. I come down slowly from the high, my body fighting for release.

He smacks my pussy hard. I cry out in pleasure, almost nearing orgasm. Inside my head, I beg him to slap me again, over and over, knowing it will push me over the edge.

Instead, he lifts my legs up, holding them with one arm, a little off to the side. I can still see his amazing body as he positions himself in front of me.

In one swift movement, he enters me, his throbbing cock buried deep in my wet pussy. I cry out, the force of his entry has brought me near the edge again. Slowly, he moves inside me, little short strokes, hitting the right spots.

My hands reach out for anything I can hold onto. Blindly, one grabs onto his forearm; the other squeezes his ass.

He laughs, thrusting hard into me. I can feel the pressure again, this time much stonger. My one hand digs my nails into his butt as my mouth becomes dry from panting.

Slowly, he goes from short strokes to long faster strokes and I find myself being brought over the egde. My muscles clamp down on him, my walls tight around his cock. My body tenses as the orgasm washes over me, the feeling that always amazes. I close my eyes as I feel him still thrusting inside me, riding out my orgasm.

My release must have done something for him as well. He pulls out, his body is slick with a sheen layer of sweat. His smile is encouraging and I know just what he wants.

As he lays on the bed, my fingers trace his stomach and chest. I straddle him, making sure to position myself for him. I lean down, kissing him softly, moving my hips. I feel his cock poking at my entrance; my body is yearning for another orgasm from him.

He thrusts his hips up, his cock burying itself inside of me again. My kisses stop for a moment as I enjoy the feeling of him filling me up.

And now that I'm in the position of power, I move my hips slowly, kissing him passionately, feeling him move inside of me.

His hips meet mine as his cock hits that spot. His moans into my mouth, biting my lower lip gently. I squeeze my muscles around him, feeling every single inch of him in me. His hips jerk forward again, forcefully.

Painfully, I pull my lips away from his, forcing my body upright. I place my hands on his chest, my fingers playing with his nipples.

And just as I start to move my hips slowly, his hands reach out to steady me for a minute.

"Just...give me a second. I want you to come again, with me, this time."

I nod my head in understanding, using my hands to caress his upper body and face. I sit like this for a few minutes, until I can no longer feel him throbbing inside me.

That's when his hands forcefully grip my hips, moving me slowly at first, then faster. As I keep the pace, my fingers tighten around his nipples and a low hiss comes from his mouth.

He lifts his head up, his mouth taking in one of my bouncing breasts, his tongue teasing my nipple. I moan softly, my hips slowing down just a bit. He moves to the other breast, this time lightly nipping my nipple, sending shivers down my spine.

I feel the pressure building again, the motion on my clit is eliciting new sensations to my already heightened feeling. I take my hands off his chest, placing them on his knees.

He smiles in appreciate of the view, watching his cock going into me. He thrusts his hips to meet mine, faster and faster.

I can no longer take the pressure; I move my hands back to his chest. His hands grab my ass, pulling me forward, letting me know he's close to his edge.

I grip his chest tighter, moving my hips faster, the friction between his pelvic bone and my clit is forcing me over the edge much quicker then I anticipated. I try hard to hold off, wanting him to come with me.

And he does.

He pushes his hips forward, burying his cock as far as it will go in me. My hips move faster, my orgasm coming full strength. My walls clench around him and I grind my hips onto his pelvic bone. My clit responds, sending me over the edge completely. His cock pulses in me as he spills his hot juices into me. He grips my hips tightly, thrusts into me, moaning my name. And as my orgasm comes to an end, I say his name just loud enough for him to hear.

Leaning down, I kiss him softly, tenderly. I giggle against his lips, moving my hips, feeling him inside of me.

He whispers into my ear, "We'll have to do this role-playing more often..."

And just as I'm about to respond, he rolls us over, attacking my neck, making me shriek from being tickled.

When he's finished, he lays on top of me, kissing my lips sweetly. Our eyes lock, his lighting up.

"Do you think we can do the door-to-door salesman next?"


End file.
